


Prompt Fills

by 2MusicLover2



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer, Merlin (TV), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M, Meet-Ugly prompt, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2MusicLover2/pseuds/2MusicLover2
Summary: Here is where I will be posting all of the fic prompts that I receive, as well as on my tumblr.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jacin Clay/Winter Hayle-Blackburn, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Nico di Angelo/Leo Valdez
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Prompt Rules

Hey there!

So, this fic is where I will be posting all of the prompts that I receive either here or on Tumblr.

If you wish to send me a prompt, you can leave one in the comments, or you can head over to Tumblr (my username is 2musiclover2) and you can send me an ask.

I will write a prompt for any pairing as long as it does not involve incest and as long as both characters are either adults or minors. That basically means that age gaps don't matter but I won't write minor/adult pairings.

Pairings are not necessary for prompts, I will also write fics without any pairings if just want platonic relationships.

I will write fluff, angst, smut, crack, whatever you want!

Fandoms that I will write for include:

\- Supernatural

\- Carry On

\- Harry Potter

\- Percy Jackson (+all series in relation to PJO)

\- Good Omens

\- Merlin

\- The Lunar Chronicles

\- The Night Circus

\- Outer Banks

\- Renegades

\- Heartless

\- Teen Titans

\- Sherlock

\- A Court of Thorns and Roses

& I'm probably forgetting some so if you don't know, feel free to ask!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!!

-2MusicLover2


	2. Good Omens x Percy Jackson Crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt “Since you have GO and Percy Jackson tagged, perhaps you can do a crossover where Aziraphale and Crowley are demigods and go to camp?” for @flyingsuperleaf on tumblr

If you were to ask Crowley, he would say that being on the run from monsters trying to kill you is tiring, and he would much rather be back at home where he didn’t have to worry about things like staying alive and finding food.

He doesn’t have that option, however, which leads him to his current predicament: three freaky looking ladies with flaming hair, one donkey leg, and one bronze leg have him cornered in an alley with no escape.

“You don’t want to eat me,” he says, putting every ounce of conviction he can into his voice.

“We don’t want to eat you,” the freak-lady in the middle says.

“We want to drink your blood,” says the one on the left.

Crowley nods shakes his head at them. “Oh, you don’t want to drink my blood, either. See, my blood is really gross, I’ve got this disease—”

Luckily for Crowley, he doesn’t have to keep up with telling this lie, as suddenly there is someone behind the three ladies, knocking each of them out with a well placed trash can to the head. Left standing there, pouting down at the unconscious monsters, is a boy about Crowley’s age with wavy, white-blonde hair and just enough baby-fat for Crowley to momentarily question if this guy is really just a tall kid.

“I’m sorry,” the boy says, and Crowley looks at him in shock.

“Sorry? You saved my life,” Crowley says.

“I only wish there was a better way I could have done this. They don’t deserve this,” the boy says.

“They don’t deserve—they were trying to kill me!” Crowley exclaims.

“Yes, well…” the boy trails off, looking at Crowley curiously. “You’re a demigod too?”

Crowley splutters for a second before regaining his composure. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘demigod’,” he says, using air-quotes when he says the word. “All I know is that I got kicked out of my house and now I’m being chased by monsters and it’s not going to be long before those ones wake up, so I’d like to get out of here _now_ , please.”

“Right, right,” the boy says, quickly backing out of the alley and acting like he expects Crowley to follow him. Of course, Crowley does, because the alternative would be to still be here when those monster-women wake up. “What’s your name, my dear boy?”

“Anthony J. Crowley,” Crowley says. “But just call me Crowley.”

“Crowley,” the boy says, trying the name out. “I’m Aziraphale.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Crowley comments. “Also, what’s with calling me your ‘dear boy’? You sound like your eighty and look like you’re twelve.”

“That would be a rather long story, but, for all intents and purposes, I am about twelve, yes,” Aziraphale says.

“‘For all intents and purposes,’ he says. You’re one strange kid, you know that?”

“I’ve been told, yes.”

They walk in silence for a few blocks before Crowley starts getting impatient. “Where exactly are we going?” he asks

“A camp,” Aziraphale answers, and Crowley raises a single skeptical eyebrow at him.

“A camp.”

“Yes, a camp. A camp for kids like us, if you are what I believe you are. Demigods. If you are a demigod, like me, then you can get inside camp,” says Aziraphale.

“You keep referring to us as ‘demigods.’ What’s a demigod?”

Aziraphale purses his lips for a moment like he is thinking about how exactly to answer. “Someone who is half-god and half-mortal. For example, my mother is the goddess Hecate, Greek goddess of magic. Do you know whether your godly parent would be your mother or father?”

Crowley gives Aziraphale a blank look and stops in his tracks, the only thing going through his mind being _I’m following an asylum-escapee through the streets of New York_.

“You’re telling me that one of my parents is a god or goddess,” Crowley deadpans.

“That would be right, yes, assuming that I am correct in thinking you are a demigod. Tell me, what did those _empousai_ look like to you?” Aziraphale asks.

“Huh? You mean the crazy demon-ladies with flaming hair that wanted to drink my blood?” Crowley asks.

“Yes,” says Aziraphale. “They are called _empousai_. They were originally created by my mother, and I can normally control them, but for some reason it wasn’t working.”

“Huh. I can control things, too,” Crowley says.

Aziraphale gives Crowley a curious look. “What do you mean you can control things.”

Crowley shrugs. “I just have to suggest to someone what I want them to do and they do it.”

“Oh, Piper won’t be happy.” Aziraphale frowns.

“Why? Who’s Piper?”

“Your sister,” answers Aziraphale. “Up until now, she was the only child of Aphrodite currently at camp who could use charmspeak, but it seems like you, dear boy, can use it as well.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “Charmspeak? You’re telling me that my mother is actually the goddess of love and that because of her, I can speak to people to charm them into doing things.”

“Essentially, yes,” Aziraphale says.

“Wicked.”

“Come, we need to hail a cab in order to get to camp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please, make sure to subscribe for more, and to comment and leave kudos! I reply to all comments!
> 
> Also, if you have a prompt for me, you can either leave it in the comments or head on over to my tumblr (@2musiclover2) and ask me there.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


	3. Jacinter Sleepy Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd really enjoy your kisses later, I'm kinda sleepy right now." For Jacinter? You don't have to if you don't want to, I saw your post and wanted to help.  
> for @jacihayle on tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt spoke to me and I just started writing and all of a sudden I had a modern day college au that I’m absolutely in love with.

Calling Jacin’s day ‘long’ would be an understatement in his opinion. It was torture. First, he woke up to an empty apartment and was running late for his 9am class for the third time that week. Then, he spilled his coffee all over the kitchen and just barely mopped it up before he _really_ had to go and then when he stopped at the little kiosk outside of the building his class was in to get a coffee, the guy working it sneezed in his cup and there wasn’t enough time to get another made.

And that was just the first thirty minutes of his day.

The entire day was just one misfortune and inconvenience after another. The only thought keeping Jacin going throughout the day was that Winter would be coming back from her class trip today and he would be able to hold her and kiss her and let her know how much he loved her without having hundreds of miles between them.

Jacin was practically vibrating with excitement as he climbed the stairs up to their apartment and then unlocked the door, calling out for Winter only frown as he was met with silence.

He checked the time on his phone just to be sure, saw that it was 4:36pm, then he opened up his messages with Winter to check what time she was supposed to be arriving back in town. His frown deepenen when he saw that she should have been home an hour ago yet their apartment was still empty.

Jacin’s thoughts were disturbed by the sound of his front door opening. His heart rate spiked in excitement until all of a sudden he was ambushed by his friends jumping on him.

“Get off,” he complained, pushing Kai, Wolf, and Thorne off of him. “I thought you guys were Winter, what are you doing here?”

“We,” Thorne said, clapping Jacin on the shoulder and over-enunciating the word, “are having a guys’ night.”

Jacin shook his head. “No. Winter is coming back tonight. She’s actually supposed to be here by now, so—”

“Sorry, Jace, the flight got delayed,” Thorne said, not a trace of sorrow actually in his voice.

“How do you know that?” Jacin asked suspiciously.

Jacin hated his friends and their constant need to talk over each other.

“Winter texted Cinder—” Kai started, but then was interrupted by Thorne slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Well, you see, Ze’ev here—

“I _told_ you to _stop calling me that_!” Wolf shouted over the end of Thorne’s sentence.

Thorne, however, just raised his voice until he was yelling out “Ze’ev here is _completely_ overprotective and has been monitoring the flight schedules all day!!”

“Carswell Thorne! Shut up before I get a noise complaint and get kicked out of _another_ apartment because of you,” Jacin demanded.

“Fine, fine, fine. But we _are_ having a guys’ night.”

This is how Jacin ended up trudging back into his apartment at 2:53am, ready to fall into his bed and sleep for the next four and a half years.

“Jacin! You’re home!”

Jacin barely even registered the fact that Winter was the one speaking to him—she was finally home!—as he flopped face-first into their bed, burying his face in his pillow.

“Mmmd uhhh,” Jacin groaned into the pillow as Winter laughed at him, bright and happy as always.

“I can’t hear you with your face in a pillow, Jacin,” she said from her seat on the bed next to him. Jacin could just picture her smiling so well and it was that image in his mind that made him turn his head to see his girlfriend in person, right there next to him, for the first time in two weeks.

“Missed you.” Jacin smiled sleepily up at her and she leaned down to kiss him.

“I’d really enjoy your kisses later, I’m kinda sleepy right now,” Jacin said against Winter’s lips, and she laughed softly at him once again that night—morning?

“Scarlet and I wanted Thorne and Kai to keep you and Wolf occupied until we made it back, not party all night until you could barely make a sentence because you’re so tired.”

“Di’n’t party. Movies. Park. Kai made us lossa coffee,” Jacin mumbled.

Winter laid down next to him and grabbed his hand, threading their fingers together on the mattress between them. “I think the coffee’s wearing off,” she said, her voice quiet and relaxing and _home_.

“Mmm,” was all Jacin could manage to reply.

“I love you,” Winter whispered.

“Love you, too. Glad you’re home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this prompt, I just really love fluff and soft quiet fics at the moment, so this prompt was perfect for my mood!
> 
> Make sure to subscribe if you want to be notified when I post more! I love reading comments and reply to them all, and I love seeing kudos and appreciate every last person who reads this!
> 
> If you have any prompts for me, you can either leave them in the comments or you can go to my tumblr (@2musiclover2) and send me an ask there!
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


	4. Destiel On A Plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a five-hour-long plane ride, we’re sitting together and you’re deathly afraid of flying, with Destiel. For @alienapparatus on tumblr

Castiel was fully prepared to spend his slightly-over-five-hours in the air taking a well-deserved nap, but as soon as the plane started rolling away from the gate he realized that that wasn't going to be happening.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked as he tilted his head and squinted at the guy sitting next to him who looked like he was attempting to crush the armrests in his fists.

“Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic,” the guy replied, his voice too strained for Castiel to believe him.

Cas was willing to take the sarcasm, however, and leave the guy to his own devices as he caught up on his sleep. He would've, too, if it wasn't for the fact that, as the plane started it's ascent, the guy gripped his seat even tighter and then started hyperventilating, and Castiel felt bad.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Cas said, trying to be calming, although 'calming' wasn't exactly an easy thing for Cas to be. “Shh, you're fine. We're fine. Everything's fine. The plane is just taking off, it'll be better in a few minutes once we're up in the air.”

Castiel's words didn't seem to have any affect on the guy, however, so he decided to try a different tactic.

“So, we're going to be sitting next to each other for the next five-and-a-half hours… what's your name?”

The guy didn’t answer at first, as he was too busy muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like Metallica. “Dean,” the guy—Dean, apparently—said before going back to his humming.

“I’m Castiel,” he replied.

Dean closed his eyes and pushed his head back into the headrest of his seat. “Hi,” he managed to get out, but it came out a bit squeaky and choked.

“What brings you to go to Iceland, if I may ask?” Castiel asked. He really wanted to try and make this flight at least somewhat better for Dean, although he wasn’t quite sure why.

Dean let out a low, shaky breath before turning his head slightly towards Castiel and answering. “Baby brother’s wedding. They’re doing that ‘destination wedding’ bullshit.”

“Ah,” Cas said with a nod of his head. “so, Dean, wh—”

Cas was cut off when the plane hit a sudden patch of turbulence and Dean's death-grip on the armrest moved to Castiel's knee. Cas stared at Dean's hand for a few minutes—long enough for the plane to make it out of the turbulence and get to the correct altitude for it to level out—but Dean didn’t make any move to move his hand.

“Um,” Cas said, a bit awkwardly, still staring at Dean's hand on his knee. “Dean?”

“What?” Dean asked shakily.

“Your, um, your hand,” said Cas.

“What about it?” Dean asked.

Cas pursed his lips. “It's on my knee.”

“Sorry,” came Dean's reply, but his grip on Castiel's knee didn't budge.

Cas sighed. “It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll land in Iceland perfectly safe. Trust me, I fly all of the time, we'll be fine.”

Dean snorted and almost seemed to relax, but then they hit another patch of turbulence and his grip tightened again, almost painful on Castiel's knee.

“Easy for you to say.” Before Cas could ask what he meant Dean looked at him and continued. “My family has bad luck. Especially me. I've nearly died like six-hundred times. This is not going to be okay.”

Rather than arguing with Dean, Cas decided to try and comfort him by placing his hand over Dean's, although Dean didn't react, seemingly too tense.

“Tell me about your brother,” Cas tried, hoping, once again, to distract Dean enough that he would feel more comfortable.

“Um, his name’s Sammy. Sam. I call him Sammy; pisses him off to no end. He’s a good kid, good grades, all that. Got into Stanford Law. Really smart,” Dean started, and as he kept on talking, Cas noticed how he started to relax more. The grimace on his face became a weak sort of smile, and the hand that gripped Castiel’s knee was now just sitting there sandwiched between Cas’ knee and hand. “He and his fiancée, Jess, they met in college. She’s amazing too, perfect girl for Sammy. I’m glad they found each other.”

“You seem really proud of Sam.”

“Yeah, I am, yeah,” Dean said. “But it’s—he’s my baby brother. I gotta look out for him, y’know? But now he has Jess for that and I’m really happy for them, I am, but I’m also kind of, like, he doesn’t need me anymore. And I know that’s not really true, because he’s my brother and we’ll still be close, but it’s just. Kinda lonely, you get me?”

Cas nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I get you. You just want to feel like he needs you, since you’ve spent all these years taking care of him, but now he’s getting married and even though you’re happy it’s hard for you to let him go.”

“Man, how did you just explain my feelings better than me?”

Cas shrugged, a little smile on his face as he looked at Dean.

The moment was ruined when another patch of turbulence caused Dean to let out a little shriek, squeeze his eyes shut, and hold onto Castiel’s hand.

A flight attendant came by to reassure Dean that it was only a bit of turbulence and everything would be okay, and would he like anything?

“Just a water, please,” Dean said through gritted teeth, his hand still tight around Castiel's.

“And you, sir?” the flight attendant asked Castiel.

“How about a Bloody Mary and a bottle of water?” Cas replied.

The flight attendant took one glance at Dean's death-grip on Castiel's hand before smiling and saying “Sure thing, coming right up.”

The rest of the flight went much the same, with Castiel slowly coaxing Dean into a somewhat relaxed state before something would happen to cause Dean to relapse and have a small panic-attack. When the plane finally touched down at the airport in Iceland, Dean was still holding onto Castiel's hand, although Cas didn't exactly mind all that much.

“I'm sorry you got stuck sitting next to me,” Dean said once the plane had been safely parked for everyone to disembark. “I can't imagine that you really wanted to spend five hours talking some random dude down from a panic-attack every five minutes.”

“To be fair, it wasn't every five minutes. Give yourself a little credit. It was maybe every half-hour or so. Besides, I actually had more fun talking to you than I probably would have if I did what I initially planned on doing,” Cas replied.

“What were you planning on doing, if you don't mind my asking?” Dean asked as he handed Cas his luggage from the overhead storage.

“Thanks,” Cas said. “And I was just planning on sleeping.”

“What? Oh, now I'm really sorry. I bet you have some important meeting or something to get to, don't you? You seem like the business type.. I'm so sorry you had to put up with me.”

Cas shook his head. “It's fine. I got here a day early, anyways, my meeting isn't until tomorrow. I've got plenty of time to sleep.”

“Okay, well, thank you, then. For, y'know, calming me down and everything. Letting me talk and… stuff.”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Well, thanks, again,” Dean said as he gave Cas a little wave and a smile.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replied with a wave and a smile of his own. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

~*~

A week later when Castiel boarded the plane for his flight back to New York, he grinned when he found his seat and saw Dean, already gripping the armrests of the seat on the aisle.

“Well, hello, again,” Cas said.

“Hey, there.” Dean smiled and stood up from his seat. “You get the window seat again.”

“Of course,” said Cas.

Dean took Castiel's hand without any hesitation once they sat down again.

“I hope you don't mind. I found the contact really helped last time.”

“Not at all, Dean. Not at all.” Cas squeezed Dean's hand for a second. “So, how was the wedding?”

“Oh, man, it was great! Sam was so happy and Jess was stunning in her dress, and…”

The second plane ride was much more relaxed, not only because the turbulence happened much less frequently, but also because Cas was the perfect distraction for Dean, and Cas was glad he was able to help someone out.

Especially when, once they landed, Dean asked that they exchange numbers so they could set up a time and place to have dinner together.

“You really helped me out, man. It's the least I can do,” was Dean's explanation.

“Dinner sounds lovely, Dean,” Cas had replied, and he was glad he hadn't spent that plane ride sleeping as he had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this one, I'm so glad it was prompted!
> 
> On another note how ready are you for the end of the season? It doesn't really feel real yet to me. I've still got my clown mask on, though, ready for when they make Destiel canon.
> 
> Prompts are always open, I take prompts for every ship (as long as it's not an adult with a minor) and for a large number of fandoms. If you're not quite sure whether I will write for a certain fandom or not, you can always feel free to ask! If you want to prompt me, either leave a prompt in the comments or head on over to my Tumblr (@2musiclover2) where you can send me an ask!
> 
> As always, kudos are deeply appreciated and I am thankful for each and every one, they always make me so happy! I also reply to all comments, I love reading what you think!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MysicLover2


	5. Percabeth "Drive!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! How about a “You were chased by the cops, got into my car and just yelled “Drive!”” With a Pjo ship. Percabeth or Solangelo, your choice! :) for @theomegakey on tumblr

It was the first time Annabeth had driven alone and she was neither amused nor prepared for this outcome. She was just supposed to go to the store to pick up a some a few groceries—just milk, eggs, and butter, that's all she needed!—but then she noticed that her dad's car was low on gas and it all went downhill from there.

While she was finishing up paying for the gas at the pump, a boy about her age with shaggy black hair and bright green eyes ran up to her car, shouted

“Drive!” and jumped into the passenger seat.

Annabeth's eyes widened, but she got in the car nonetheless. Instead of starting it, however, she turned to face the boy with a glare.

“Out,” she demanded when the boy didn't move, but he just kept tapping on the skateboard in his lap frantically, flicking his eyes repeatedly to the mirrors. “Dude, get out of my car! I don't know you!”

The boy looked at her and shriveled under her gaze, slightly, but he still didn't get out.

“Get out!”

“Drive, please!”

Annabeth crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor. “I'll call the cops if you don't get out.”

This caused the boy to panic and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, no! Please, don't do that! Look, can you just give me a ride to my place? I live in the apartments over on East 104th and 1st. Please? Just help a kid out, yeah?”

Annabeth continued to glare at him, before she motioned to the skateboard in his lap. “You've got a skateboard. What do you need me to drive you for?”

“It's broken,” was the boy's immediate response, but Annabeth didn't quite believe him, it looked perfectly fine to her. “Look, could you please just drive and I'll explain on the way?”

Reluctantly, Annabeth turned on the car.

“East 104th and 1st?” she asked, and the boy nodded his head. “Okay, you're acting really shady, so please tell me that you're at least not running from the cops or anything.”

The boy grimaced.

“You're on the—what did you do? Is this going to get me arrested, too?”

“No…” the boy said. “Well, I don't think so… I promise I'm not, like, a murderer or anything like that. I just… may have gotten bored and decided to skate through a few places that you probably shouldn't do that… like a museum. So, really, it's just a few security guards. To be honest, they probably gave up on chasing me, I just wanted to be safe.”

Annabeth had to take a deep breath to keep herself from smacking the boy upside the head. “Let me get this straight. You got bored, decided to skate through a museum, and then decided to hitch a ride with a random stranger to your apartment because the security guards were chasing you?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Oh my God, I can't believe this,” Annabeth exclaimed exasperatedly.

“What? You didn't have to agree to drive me,” the boy said.

“Yes, because you were so willing to get out of my car.”

The boy shrugged. “I'll pay you for your troubles, if you want. I've got…” he dug around in his pocket for a second before pulling his hand back out. “I've got seventy-three cents, a paperclip, and a sand dollar. You can't have the sand dollar though, I gotta keep that.”

Annabeth made a confused and slightly-weirded-out face. “You can keep your seventy-three cents, paperclip, and sand dollar. Why do you even have a sand dollar?”

“I like the beach and oceans and stuff. My dad gave it to me,” the boy said like it should have been obvious.

“Okay. Whatever. We're here,” Annabeth said.

“Thanks for the ride,” the boy said. “My name's Percy, by the way.”

“Annabeth.” She rolled her eyes. “Now, get out of my car.”

“Okay, okay, I'm getting out,” Percy said. “See you around, Annabeth. Hopefully next time I won't be on the run.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes again. “See you around. Maybe stop skateboarding through museums?”

Percy grinned. “I can't make any promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Percy would totally get chased out of a museum by the security guards for skateboarding.
> 
> Prompts are always open, I take prompts for every ship (as long as it's not an adult with a minor) and for a large number of fandoms. If you're not quite sure whether I will write for a certain fandom or not, you can always feel free to ask! If you want to prompt me, either leave a prompt in the comments or head on over to my Tumblr (@2musiclover2) where you can send me an ask!
> 
> As always, kudos are deeply appreciated and I am thankful for each and every one, they always make me so happy! I also reply to all comments, I love reading what you think!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


	6. Merthur Mosh Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I broke your nose at a mosh pit, with Merthur. For @poisonedquiver on tumblr

Arthur was having the time of his life. He understood why Morgana did this so often, now, and he was absolutely going to have to go along with her at every possible chance.

Who knew that he had so much pent up anger and emotions that all he needed was a good mosh pit to let it all out?

That is, until in his (slightly violent) flailing, head-banging, and air guitar-ing leads to him whipping his head backwards—directly into someone else’s face.

“Ow! Watch you clotpole!” the guy shouted, a hand clutching his face making his words slightly muffled, and Arthur immediately sobered up and turned around quickly to apologize.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!” he shouted over the music. He grabbed the guy by the shoulder and steered him out of the mosh pit to hopefully prevent any further injuries before he took the guy’s face into his hands and gently pulled the guy’s hand away to reveal that his nose was slightly crooked and blood was steadily pouring out of it and down his face. “Oh, shit, that looks broken. I’m so sorry.”

“Broken?” the guy asked, a slightly panicky note to his voice.

"Yeah,” said Arthur. “How about I take you to the hospital? Are you here with anyone?”

The guy hesitated. “Uh, yeah, I was meeting my friend here, but—”

“Do you want to find them or just message them and tell them you're going to the hospital?”

The guy shook his head then tilted it back, pinching his nose. “You don't need to take me to the hospital, I'll be fine.”

“Will you?” Arthur asked, tilting the guy's head forward again. “Because you're not supposed to tilt your head back like that.”

“Okay, fine. But why would I let some guy who just broke my nose take me someplace?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You really expect me to let you attempt driving yourself to the hospital? You would probably end up in even worse condition.”

The guy nodded. “Okay, okay. I get it. Just let me text my friend first so she knows where I'm at and can call the cops if needed.”

And that was how Arthur ended up driving a complete stranger's car to the hospital in the middle of the night.

“So, I'm driving your car and all, but I don't exactly know your name,” Arthur said to fill the silence.

“It's Merlin,” the guy replied.

“Did I hear that right? Your name is Merlin?” Arthur asked and supposedly-Merlin nodded his head.

“That's crazy! I'm Arthur.”

“Oh, wonderful. A royal prat broke my nose,” Merlin said.

Arthur scoffed. “First of all, I'm sorry, I really, really am. I promise I didn't mean to break your nose and I had no idea you were even there. Second of all, I am very unfortunately not royalty. So.”

“Uh huh. Okay,” Merlin replied, and they were back to spending the car ride in silence.

Merlin's nose was no longer bleeding as heavily by the time they walked into the emergency room to find none other than Arthur's sister sitting in the lobby.

“Finally! Took you both long enough! Come on, Merlin, let's go get you checked in,” Morgana said, ushering Merlin to the reception desk.

Arthur was left standing in the doorway, shocked, until Merlin had been checked in and a nurse came to show him to a room, leaving Morgana and Arthur alone in the reception area.

“Arthur, are you going to sit down?” Morgana asked, clearly annoyed.

“You know Merlin? How do you know Merlin?” Arthur asked instead of sitting down.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “We go to uni together. We were supposed to meet at the concert, but I guess you found him first.”

“How could you not tell me you had a boyfriend? I'm your brother, I need to know these things!” Arthur replied, finally taking a seat next to Morgana.

“Well, the fact that he's gay is probably a big factor in that,” Morgana said, rolling her eyes yet again, then she continued before Arthur could say anything else. “And, no, I will not give you his number, you can ask for it yourself.”

“I—”

“Don't even try it, I know you were about to ask me.”

Arthur hung his head, slightly ashamed that Morgana knew him so well.

“If only you didn't decide to join a mosh pit—you two could have had a much better meeting.”

Arthur shrugged. That may be true, but this meeting would be a great story to tell people if Merlin would say yes when Arthur asked him out.

Surprisingly, he did.

It was a fantastic story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please, make sure to subscribe for more, and to comment and leave kudos! I reply to all comments!
> 
> Also, if you have a prompt for me, you can either leave it in the comments or head on over to my tumblr (@2musiclover2) and ask me there.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


	7. Valdangelo Facebook Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My new dealer has friended me on Facebook and I'm unsure of how to react to that, with Valdangelo. For @prince-hyacinthus on tumblr

“JASONNN!” Nico called through the apartment to his best friend and roommate. “JASON COME HERE, I NEED YOUR ADVICE!!!”

“WHAT???” Jason called back.

“I NEED YOUR ADVICE!” Nico shouted again, but got no answer. “Aw for Hades' sake,” he grumbled, getting up out of his bed and unplugging his laptop to carry with him into the living room where Jason was flipping through channels on the TV.

“What's up, Neeks?” Jason asked, turning off the TV as Nico flopped down onto the couch next to him.

Nico rolled his eyes at the nickname. “So, uh, you know how I got a new dealer? Leo?”

“Well, yeah, I am the one who introduced you to him,” Jason replied with a smile. “He's great, isn't he?”

“Uh huh, sure, but, uh, he kinda just… friended me on Facebook?” Nico said, the end tilting up into a question as he turned his computer screen for Jason to see the friend request in question. “Like, I thought there was a thing against that. You know, no contact with dealers outside of your deals, something like that?”

Jason shook his head. “Nah, Leo doesn't care about that; says it makes it less conspicuous if people just think you're friends.”

“Okay… so I should accept this?” Nico asked hesitantly, and Jason grinned.

“Yep!”

And that was how Nico came to accept a friend request from one Leo Valdez. It was a few hours later when, while the two boys were watching TV, Nico received a notification on his phone that he had received a Facebook message from Leo.

“Jasonnn,” Nico said. “Jason, he messaged me. What do I do?”

Jason turned the TV off again and turned to face Nico with his full attention. “Open it! See what he wants!”

Nico did as instructed and clicked on the notification, then read aloud the message. “It just says ‘Hey, Nico, wazzup?’ spelled w-a-z-z-u-p. What even? Who types like that?”

“Leo does, obviously. Come on, you gotta reply. Whatcha gonna say?” Jason leaned towards Nico more to read over the boy's shoulder as he typed out a response. “Bro, you really just gonna say ‘Hi Leo’? What's up with that?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Well, what else am I supposed to say?”

“Answer his question, for one. Oh, and compliment him a little! Compliments are key,” Jason said, nodding his head with an oddly serious expression.

Nico raised an eyebrow at Jason. “What exactly do you think is going on here?” he asked, but then started typing nonetheless.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jason said hurriedly. He tried peeking over Nico's shoulder again, but Nico turned his phone screen away. “Aw, come on, Neeks. No need to be like that.”

“Nope,” Nico said, taking a short break in his typing and giving a little smile. “Not until you tell me what you're up to.”

Jason clutched a hand to his chest. “What do you mean ‘tell you what I'm up to’? You think I have something to do with this? Why, Nico, you offend me.”

“I think you have everything to do with this, because it's the kind of thing you do,” Nico said.

“Ugh, fine,” said Jason. “You told after you first met with him that you thought he was kinda attractive. And he's one of my best friends, you know that, and he had told me that he thought you were kinda attractive. So, I may have urged him into friending you and asking you out. You're welcome.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Of course you did. Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Wait—really?” Jason asked, shocked that his plan had worked out.

“Yeah, he just asked me out,” Nico replied.  
Jason jumped up from the couch and started ‘dancing (read: aggressively head banging while flailing his body around). “Yes! I am the perfect matchmaker!”

“Calm down, you don't know anything yet. This could turn out horribly, and then I'll blame you for all of the problems in my life,” Nico said.

“If that happens then fine, you can blame me. But it won't happen, because I am the Perfect Matchmaker!” Jason shouted, no doubt loud enough for them to receive a noise complaint.

Jason turned out to be right: Nico had an amazing time on the date and was looking forward to the one they had set up for a week later. Just to spite Jason, however, he got Leo to agree to pretending that the date had gone poorly.

Jason was not amused. Months later, in retaliation, he put an excessive amount of salt in the pancakes the first morning Leo had stayed over, thus starting a never-ending prank war.

At least Jason knew he was the Perfect Matchmaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please, make sure to subscribe for more, and to comment and leave kudos! I reply to all comments!
> 
> I might turn this ficlet into a short series, I dunno. It inspired me, so let me know what you think in the comments if you'd like to see more in this universe.
> 
> Also, if you have a prompt for me, you can either leave it in the comments or head on over to my tumblr (@2musiclover2) and ask me there.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


	8. Merthur Walk-of-Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay I LOVE the met ugly prompts and I feel like this actually doesn’t go together very well but it’ll be interesting to see what you make of it so,, Merthur + sunday morning walk of shame meet? 😚 for @thewickeddays on tumblr

At about nine-thirty on an ordinary Sunday morning, two doors directly across from each other in an ordinary, non-descript apartment complex in England opened at the same time. A slightly disoriented and extremely disheveled man stepped out of each of them and stopped abruptly upon seeing each other, and the doors both slammed shut behind them.

The two men jumped slightly and flinched at the simultaneous slam of the doors.

“Good morning,” the blond said to the brunet after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“Good morning,” the brunet echoed with a lopsided smile as he reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Have a good night?” he asked, and then cringed at himself for asking that.

“Um, yeah,” the blond replied. “You?”

“Good,” the brunet said. “Good.”

They started walking silently down the hall together, towards the elevator, their limbs held awkwardly as they weren't quite sure how to act in this situation.

And, of course, they had to wait for the elevator.

“I'm Merlin, by the way,” the brunet said as he stared at the elevator doors, then he turned to the blond.

“Not that you really needed to know, it's not like we'll ever see each other again; coming here was a one-time thing, for me, at least, but, uh, I just thought it might be less weird if we were talking to each other, but now I realize I might have made it even weirder, and—”

“Arthur,” the blond interrupted. “Uh, I’m Arthur, that is. I wasn't calling you—”

“Nice to meet you, Arthur,” Merlin interrupted this time, holding out a hand for Arthur to shake, that lopsided smile back on his face.

“Nice to meet you, too, Merlin,” Arthur replied as he shook Merlin's hand with a crooked smile of his own. The elevator chose that moment to ding and the two men stepped into it.

Merlin pushed the button for the second floor and then turned to Arthur. “I live on the second floor, I'm guessing you need the ground floor?”

“I live on the first floor, actually,” Arthur replied, and Merlin's eyes widened slightly in shock as he pushed the button for the first floor, mumbling something under his breath that Arthur couldn't quite make out.

“What was that?” Arthur asked.

Merlin blushed. “Nothing,” he said quickly, clearly hiding something before he seemed to think better of it and he spoke, blushing somehow even harder than before. “I just… I didn’t realize that, er, that someone as, er, attractive as yourself lived in the building.”

Arthur was shocked by Merlin’s—admittedly rather nervous—confession to finding Arthur attractive, but he was thrilled by it nonetheless.

“I could say the same about you,” Arthur said, Merlin’s reluctant confidence having spurred on his own.

“You could?” Merlin asked, even more shocked by Arthur’s confession than Arthur was by his.

Arthur nodded his head as they came to a stop on the second floor. “Yeah,” and then, not quite willing to let this encounter go without making a move, he said “Would you like to come over to mine for some coffee, maybe?”

Merlin hesitated, halfway in the elevator and halfway in the hallway. “I would love to, but I want to at least get changed first. I’ve been in these clothes since yesterday.”

“Of course!” Arthur said with a grin. “How about you come down in about two hours? I’m the third door on the right from this elevator.”

“That sounds perfect,” Merlin said with a returning smile. “It was nice to meet you, Arthur. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“See you in a couple of hours!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please, make sure to subscribe for more, and to comment and leave kudos! I reply to all comments!
> 
> Also, if you have a prompt for me, you can either leave it in the comments or head on over to my tumblr (@2musiclover2) and ask me there.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


	9. Destiel Keying Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're the bastard who keeps parking right in front of my house so I retaliated by keying your car and you caught me, with Destiel. For @slightly-mad-hatter on tumblr

Living in a middle- to lower-class neighborhood definitely had its drawbacks, and, at the moment, Castiel was positive that the biggest one was the lack of any proper driveways, forcing him and his neighbors to park along the side of the street.

All he wanted to do was park his car so he could go inside and sleep after a long day of classes, and then dealing with his insufferable coworkers and even worse customers, but someone was parked in the space in front of his house.

Again.

Castiel had had enough of it. Didn’t these people have their own house to park in front of? It was bad enough that his family was so big that most of his siblings had to park in the yard, but now that he was the oldest and one of the only ones still living at home that could drive, one of his neighbors just _had_ to take the only space left. Not only that, but Castiel knew _exactly_ who it was that had parked in his space: Dean Winchester, the bane of Castiel’s existence.

You see, Dean and Cas were both seniors in the local high school, Sioux Falls High, and while the two had classes together and occasionally had to talk to each other, they never really had much contact with each other outside of classes. Dean was popular and somehow made his way into an assortment of friend groups: the jocks, the nerds, the punks, the gays, the band geeks… he was friends with basically the entire school.

Don’t get him wrong, though, Castiel was the same way. He just tended to avoid talking to certain people when Dean was there because something about that boy just…

The point is, Castiel didn’t like Dean. And now, Dean had finally given him a somewhat-legitimate excuse to act on his dislike for the other boy.

Not wanting to waste any time, Cas pulled beaten-up car alongside Dean’s, parked it, and got out with his keys in hand, his thoughts running a mile a minute. He walked around the car to the driver’s side of Dean’s car and pressed his key into the door, dragging it across the side and leaving a long, satisfying mark in the paint.

And then the door to the backseat opened and none other than Dean Winchester climbed out of the car, fury written all over his face.

“Did you just do what I think you just did?” Dean asked, his voice deeper and fiercer than Castiel had ever heard it in class.

There was no denying it, the evidence of Castiel’s actions was clearly there as a mark in Dean’s car and the keys still gripped in Cas’ hand.

“Yep,” Castiel said, feeling much more confident than he probably should. Cas wasn’t weak by any means, but he also wasn’t the quarterback, the number one wrestler in the state, and a lacrosse player. Dean, on the other hand, was, which meant he could probably take Cas down without a second thought.

Dean locked his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest before inspecting the damage Cas had done. He ran a finger along the clear line and then opened the door to the backseat again.

“Whatever,” Dean said as he climbed back into the backseat.

Cas was beyond shocked. If he knew one thing about Dean Winchester it was that you _do not under any circumstances_ harm his car or there would be hell to pay.

Maybe the long day had set off Castiel's desire to get into a fight, but he wasn't quite sure why he decided not to drop it and knocked on the window to Dean's car.

Through the window Castiel could clearly see Dean roll his eyes as he sat back up and opened the door again to face Castiel from his seat.

“What?” Dean asked, clearly annoyed.

“Why are you sleeping in your car?” Cas ended up asking rather than progressing the fight. This is why he hated Dean: the boy made his emotions switch so quickly Cas could barely keep track of them.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel. “Why did you key my car?” he asked in retaliation.

“You parked in my spot,” Cas said easily, then he repeated, “Why are you sleeping in your car?”

“This isn’t _your spot_ , we don’t have _spots_. I don’t recall anyone having to pay for a designated parking space and I sure as _hell_ don’t recall seeing your name on it,” said Dean, still avoiding the question.

“It’s in front of my house, therefore, my parking space. Why are you sleeping in your car?”

“God, Cas, why do you even care?” Dean asked with a roll of his eyes, but Castiel was having none of Dean’s deflections and just continued to stare at him expectantly. “It’s because it’s easier to just sleep out here than it is to try sneaking inside in the middle of the night and risk waking my parents.”

“It’s nine o’clock on a Friday night, and you’re sleeping in your car because you don’t want to sneak in in the middle of the night?”

Dean rolled his eyes—again, it was starting to become a regular occurrence in this conversation—and flipped Castiel off. “Yep. Now leave me alone, I’d like to get some sleep.”

With that, Dean shut his car door again and laid back down. He didn’t open the door again, even when Cas knocked, so Cas was forced to park in his yard, but he supposed that was his punishment for keying Dean Winchester’s precious car.

~*~

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Cas’ eyes widened in shock and a hint of fear when he looked up from finishing his AP Calc homework last minute to find Dean standing in front of his desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What?” Cas asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew exactly what Dean was talking about.

“I’ve changed my mind. I wasn’t thinking clearly last night. I want you to pay to fix my car,” Dean said.

Cas rolled his eyes, for some reason once again determined to get into a fight. “You already said I don’t have to do anything. I feel like you shouldn’t be able to change your mind like that.”

“This isn’t some drama show, Castiel, just give me the money for my car and I’ll call it even,” said Dean.

“No, no. I specifically remember you saying it was ‘whatever’ and I still don’t think you should be able to change your mind about that kinda thing. It would be like calling someone innocent and then later deciding you ‘changed your mind’—” Cas put air quotes around the words “—and declare them guilty. It doesn’t work like that. So, no, I’m not paying.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas, his jaw clenched, then turned and stalked off to his own seat.

Somehow Cas knew that that was _not_ the end of this conversation.

~*~

Of course, he was right. He just didn’t expect the conversation to continue with his older brother Michael also in the conversation.

“And _I’m_ saying that you _are_ paying for it!” Michael said, crossing his arms and fixing Castiel with a stern look.

“How do you even expect me to pay for it when I don’t have a job?” Cas asked, an equally stubborn look on his face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have keyed my car, then,” Dean offered from where he was standing along the wall of Castiel’s kitchen.

Cas couldn’t help the childish instinct to stick his tongue out at Dean, so he did. What was surprising was that Dean stuck his tongue out right back.

“Children,” Michael muttered with a roll of his eyes. “You’ll have to get a job then. Or make a compromise. Dean, you work at your uncle’s auto shop, correct?”

Dean’s eyes widened at the conversation suddenly being directed to him. “Uh, yeah, why?”

Castiel had a feeling he already knew where this was going and he was having none of it. “No. Anything but that. I’ll get a job at the diner or something. Just not this.”

“It’s up to Dean, it is his car you’re paying to fix,” Michael said, turning to Dean for a response.

“What’s going on? What are you suggesting?” Dean asked.

“He wants me to work in the auto shop, probably fixing your car,” Cas replied.

Dean pursed his lips for a moment as if contemplating his decision. “I think you should help me fix my car,” he finally said, and Cas groaned and leaned forward to lay his head on the counter in front of him.

“It’s settled then: Castiel will work at the shop and help fix Dean’s car,” Michael said, and Cas groaned again.

“Great!” Dean said with a cheeky grin. “You start tomorrow after school. I’ll see you there.”

~*~

Castiel felt completely and utterly useless. Not only did he have no idea _how_ to fix a car, not even a scratch on one like the one Cas had left on Dean’s car, but Dean wouldn’t even _let him do anything_. Dean didn’t even ask him to hand him any tools, instead just doing everything for himself. It was the most boring thing Castiel had ever had to do, the only thing he had to pass the time being idle chatter between himself and Dean.

Not only was it boring work, but after two weeks of sitting there doing nothing for four to six hours every day after school, Cas had a feeling that the scratch should have been well-passed fix by that point.

“Why is it taking you so long?” Cas finally asked as he stared at the wall, repeatedly clicking a pen in his hand.

“Because you can’t rush perfection,” Dean replied. “And because I can’t work right when you’re clicking that pen.”

Cas rolled his eyes, but stopped clicking the pen nonetheless.

“I think I’m done for tonight,” Dean said after a few more minutes. “Same time tomorrow.”

“Really? Don’t you have practice or something? I’d like a day off,” Cas complained.

Dean snorted a laugh. “From sitting there? Unlikely. And, no, I don’t have practice. Football is out of the championship and I’ve got one more week until wrestling.”

“It’s not my fault I’m not doing anything. Every time I try to help, you tell me to stop and just sit there,” Cas said, choosing to direct the conversation towards an argument rather than something civilized.

“Yeah, well,” Dean said before he rolled his eyes and turned away from Cas. “Fine, then. Come here.”

Cas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but got up and walked over to Dean anyways.

“This is called a sponge,” Dean said, handing the sponge over to Cas.

“Yeah, I know what a sponge is, I’m not stupid,” Cas replied.

Dean shrugged. “First you gotta wash the dirt out, ‘kay? So, soak that in some rubbing alcohol and then start cleaning the scratch off.” Dean handed Cas a bottle of rubbing alcohol, which Castiel then poured onto the sponge before he handed it back to Dean.

Cas did as instructed and scrubbed the entirety of the gouge and the area surrounded it with the sponge until he couldn’t see any sign of dirt, and he looked to Dean for approval.

“Good. Now, we have to fill it with this,” Dean said, and he held up a small tube labelled ‘Glazing Putty’. “Put a dime-sized glob of this down _next to_ the scratch every few inches.”

Castiel took the tube and squeezed some out at the start of the scratch and then moved the tube down the scratch a little bit to put another blob, but Dean stopped him before he could squeeze any out.

“Little farther apart than that… there you go,” Dean said, and Cas did as directed until he had enough putty by the scratch. “Okay, now you’re going to take this spreader-thingy—”

“Spreader-thingy?” Cas asked with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you knew what you were doing?”

“Shut up, I do not what I’m doing; that doesn’t mean I know what the tools are called. I’m, like, ninety-nine percent sure this thing doesn’t actually have a name,” Dean replied with a hint of a smile. “Anyways. You’re gonna take this spreader-thingy and spread the glazing putty out in the scratch and then once it’s all filled scrape off the excess putty.”

Spreading the putty evenly was a lot harder than it looked, however, and before long Castiel was huffing in frustration. He was about to flop down to sit on the cement floor, when suddenly Dean was there, his chest pressed against Castiel’s back and his hand covering Castiel’s, guiding the spreader along the scratch to fill it with putty.

“Like this,” he mumbled, and Castiel never would have guessed that he would enjoy having Dean pressed up against him like this—okay, yes, he could never deny that he found Dean attractive, but he _hated_ him… emphasis on the past tense.

Cas relaxed into Dean’s hold, letting all of his weight lean back against Dean, their cheeks pressed together as Dean leaned his head over Cas’ shoulder. They finished far too soon for Castiel’s liking, but Dean didn’t release his gentle grip on his hand or move away, although he seemed too scared to make a move. So, Cas turned slightly so he could face Dean better and used his free hand to turn Dean’s face towards him. After a quick search in Dean’s face for any sign that he should stop, Castiel couldn’t find any, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s. It remained chaste, but Castiel could feel Dean returning the pressure for a moment before he pulled away with a smile.

“That’s not gonna get you out of finishing fixing my car,” Dean teased, his eyes flitting between Castiel’s eyes and lips.

“No?” Cas asked innocently. “I was hoping we could just be done for the night.”

Dean rolled his eyes, albeit with a certain fondness that Cas had just started to notice. “All we’ve got left to do is use some paint leveler on it and then paint it, and then we’re all done.”

“So, how do we use the paint leveler then?” Cas asked, eager to finish fixing the scratch in Dean’s car so that he could find out if the backseat of a car really _was_ a nice place to make out.

Dean shrugged. “We’ve gotta let the putty finish drying first.”

“So…” Castiel said, trailing off as he lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly.

Dean disentangled himself from Cas then and stood up, opening the door the backseat and sweeping his arm dramatically. “After you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Please, make sure to subscribe for more, and to comment and leave kudos! I reply to all comments!
> 
> Also, if you have a prompt for me, you can either leave it in the comments or head on over to my tumblr (@2musiclover2) and ask me there.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed!  
> -2MusicLover2


End file.
